Easing The Pain
by tracyh
Summary: Following on from Season 5 episode 13, Meredith and Derek's final scene. What happens next?
1. Chapter 1

**Easing The Pain**

**A/N First of all may I wish you all a very belated happy new year. Isn't it amazing to think that it is 2009 already? I must be getting old! Secondly, my apologies to those of you who are still waiting for the continuation of Just One Second, my everlasting uncompleted fic. It will be done. To be honest this is part of the process of getting back into the writing, breaking my teeth on something new and fresh before I run headlong, or rather, stumble over, the last few chapters of JOS, but it WILL happen. I don't abandon stories, not ever, and have no intention of starting now.**

**Anyway, I have to say that the one-shot plot bunny bit me after watching a download of Thursday's stunning episode of Grey's. Ellen Pompeo acted her little socks off in that scene after William's execution and this is my response. Strangely, I feel a need to give Derek a voice to explain what, at least in my mind, happens next, and I might even mention a certain ring. Please, read and review. You can even abuse me for writing this when I should be finishing Just One Second if you like.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy but after Thursday's episode I wish I did. What a stunner.**

Meredith was broken. I watched her walk through the gates of the Caldwell Correctional Facility, guards at her side, and I knew she was broken. As the guard let her out she walked through, almost like she didn't know where she was, unsteady, uncertain, but with an urgency to get out of there that was obvious even to me as I stood on the other side of the road waiting for her. Her eyes met mine across the road between us and she never looked away, not even for a second.

It's one of the many things that makes me realise how changed she is, how changed we _both_ are, that she asked me to go with her when she went to William's execution. In the past she would have gone alone, would have insisted on it, told me she was fine and could manage by herself. Now she asks me to go with her and I can't help the feeling that it gives me. She needs me for this and I won't fail her, even though I know that while she goes inside and witnesses the execution by herself, I will be outside, waiting for her by the car.

Part of me wonders even now why I stayed outside and let her go in alone, but Meredith seems to get it. She seems to understand that as much as she needs to go, I need not to. I need to not show Meredith that I just don't see this the way she does, she already knows that. I need to not show her that while she feels some compassion for William, I feel that he's getting exactly what he deserves. He killed five women, damaged the lives of untold numbers of others, probably took mothers away from children. When murderers act they create so many victims, not only the people they kill, but their families, wives, husbands, lovers, children, friends. God knows, I still remember the time after my Dad was shot, the days when it was hard to understand that I would never see him again, not just because he had died, but because someone made a choice to take his life away, all for a watch he'd refused to give up, a watch my Mom had saved for. It still burns me up inside to think that whoever did that to my Dad was never caught, that somewhere there is someone walking around free who should have paid for what they did. I push down a thought that somehow William is paying for it, that somehow his execution will take away some of the anger that coils around inside me, that it will somehow fix the damage. I need to not show Meredith that for me William's death is my vengeance on my Dad's murderers. Somehow I know she knows that's how I feel, but I can't show her that, and going in there, if I had to sit and watch while William was executed, I know I wouldn't be able to hide it and somehow I know Meredith knows it too.

I watch as Meredith crosses the space between us, her eyes still on mine. She looks small and delicate in the darkness, the only light coming from the building behind her, but immediately I can see that she is barely holding herself together. I wait for her, my hands deep in my pockets, one of them closing instinctively around a box, a box that contains a ring, a ring that is a link to the past and, if she says yes, will be a bridge to our future. I don't know what made me leave it in my pocket when we came here. Maybe it was a link to my Dad, but as she steps closer I realise that it is also a symbol of the way I feel for Meredith. It is a symbol that no matter how we see things, even if I see the world in black and white and she sees all the shades of gray in the world, I will always be by her side. Mom was right, I need Meredith.

Meredith steps up to me and I watch her, waiting for something. I don't know what for. In the past she would have got back in the car, told me she was fine and she wanted to go. Now she stands there and without a pause, without any hesitation, she is opening herself up. It surprises me for a second. Meredith never used to be like this. She held back, bottled everything up, pushed it all down. Now she is an open wound. The horror in her eyes burns into me as she begins to fall apart. She is crying, tears fall down her face in streaks of pain. Her voice breaks.

"I know you don't understand me", she sobs as she speaks. "_I_ don't understand me."

The way her voice shatters over the words breaks my heart. I want to stop her. It's as if she is trying to explain herself to me, to tell me why she needed to do this. I want to tell her to stop, that it doesn't matter, but the pain seeping out of her stills the words on my tongue.

"I wanted to show him compassion, that's why I went, that's the reason," the words continue to come, catching in her throat through her tears.

It sounds like she is apologising for going, trying to fix something. I want to stop her, but still she goes on.

'And it was horrible."

She breaks even more, shatters into a million pieces in front of me, and all of a sudden nothing matters except making it better for her. There have been so many times that I wished Meredith would let me help her, would let me comfort her, and now she does. I reach for her, my hands flying out of my pockets. For a moment nothing matters, not even the ring, the symbol of the past and the future I want with her. No, all that matters to me is that Meredith is hurt and I need to make it better, and what's more, she is letting me try. She comes into my arms, still sobbing. "It was horrible," she sobs again, and clings to me.

I hold her close, feeling that somehow I seem to have become a lifeline for her. She gets that we see some things differently, that our view of the world is different, but she comes to me anyway. Maybe it is possible that as much as I need her, she needs me too. In this moment, in a lot of moments lately, it feels like she does. In this moment I love her more than I've ever loved her.

We stand by the car for what seems like hours. Meredith continues to sob and it breaks my heart. I try to comfort her, try to soothe the tears away with soft words and reassurances that it was all right, and although the sobs quieten, the tears don't stop. She trembles in my arms and though I know that the night is cold, I realise that most of her shivering is because of the horror she feels at what she has witnessed. I want to get her away from this place, away from the hurt. A measure of the pain she is in is the way she doesn't even resist when I steer her towards the car and guide her inside. I open the door on her side and help her up into her seat before I run round to my side. I really want to get her out of this place.

I start the car and my first thought is to head for home, the home that used to be Meredith's, the home where I live with her now, where her friends will be, or maybe to take her to the trailer, the place I used to live in the middle of nowhere. The place she uses now when she needs some space or some time with Cristina, the friend she trusts implicitly, the friend she needs. The friend who isn't speaking to her. I know exactly where I'm taking her now. She continues to cry softly.

We arrive at Cristina's apartment block and I turn off the car's engine, telling Meredith that I won't be a second. She nods in understanding, reassuring me that she is hearing me, that she hasn't gone too far in to herself, but still the tears are falling, as if she doesn't have the will, or maybe the energy, to stop them, or maybe she continues to cry because she knows she can't express everything she feels to me. Maybe she knows that there are some things I just won't understand. In the past I would have hated that. I would have been jealous of anyone being able to help Meredith, especially anyone that wasn't me, especially Cristina Yang. Now I don't care. All that matters now is that Meredith is still crying and I have the solution to it in my grasp.

I run up to Cristina's apartment and knock on her door. It opens and she stares at me in confusion. Cristina and I have never been close. I know she still thinks that I'm going to let Meredith down again, that I'm going to hurt her, and I've been jealous of the closeness she shares with Meredith, a closeness that for so long I had no part of.

When the door opens and Cristina stares at me I jump straight to the point. "She's in the car, she's in the car and she won't stop crying." I'm sounding short of breath, partly due to running to the apartment, but mainly because of the urgency I feel. I need Cristina's help right now. Meredith needs Cristina.

"Did you propose?" Cristina asks the question, her voice and features full of sarcasm. It doesn't occur to me to ask why me proposing to the woman I love would reduce her to tears, at least in Cristina's eyes. I already know. Cristina thinks that Meredith spending the rest of her life with me would be a disaster.

"No she went to William's execution" I respond, focusing not on disabusing Cristina of her obvious low opinion of me, but on Meredith, who for all I know is still crying in the car.

For a split second Cristina stands still. I think for a moment that she's going to tell me to deal with it, to fix Meredith on my own, but then something changes in her eyes. Something falls into place for her. Within a second I am following her out to my car, back to Meredith.

I sit on the steps of the apartment block to give Meredith a chance to talk to Cristina alone. I don't have to wait too long. Within about twenty minutes Cristina opens the door on her side of the car and jumps out. I stand up, pushing my hands into my pockets, feeling the ring box again. I grip it firmly, the hard edges of the box digging into my palm. It comforts me.

Cristina walks up the steps. 'Take her home McDreamy" She uses the nickname she gave me at the beginning of her internship, before she knew there was anything between me and Meredith, before _we_ knew there was anything between me and Meredith, before Meredith knew I had a wife.

"Is she all right?" I ask the question softly.

"She's all right" Cristina confirms. Somehow I half expected her to tell me that Meredith was 'fine'. The way she tells me that Meredith is 'all right' tells me that it is true. She really is all right. Right now I think I love Cristina Yang, but as I turn my eyes to the car I know I love Meredith more. She really is all right.

I begin to walk towards the car. As I reach the bottom step I turn back to Cristina, as she is about to go through the doors to the apartment block. "Cristina?" She turns to me, her expression typically void of any emotion. The only thing that gives her away is a vague shining in her eyes. "Just…..Thanks." She shrugs noncommittally and waves over her shoulder as she turns back and goes inside.

I get back in the car and start up the engine. I turn to Meredith, just too see for myself that she really is all right. I see her leaning back into her seat, her eyes closed. She looks like she is sleeping so I don't say anything. I pull out onto the road and as we begin to move Meredith's hand suddenly reaches out to the free hand of mine, the one that is not steering us home. I look at her and see that her eyes are still closed, though she seems to be awake. I feel her long thin fingers within mine. I realise that though Cristina can comfort Meredith in ways I just can't, there are things that I can give her that her best friend can't. In this moment she seems to need to know I'm still there, that I'm not angry that I couldn't get her to stop crying and Cristina could. I grip her hand within mine, our fingers locking together, as if they belong that way. Meredith sighs softly. She is all right, and so am I.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N The reaction to the first part of this was so great that it helped me to decide to do one more chapter just to round things off. My thanks to all of you who reviewed so kindly, it really does help and encourage me.**

**I enjoyed using Derek's voice in the first chapter and I will continue to do so for this one. Similarly, in this chapter most of the dialogue will be from Meredith, though Derek will have a little. The narrative approach, with very sparse dialogue, seemed to work for me in the first part, it helped me to see through the character's eyes, so I will use it again now. Bear in mind that this will not become a multi-chapter fic, even if you beg really nicely, assuming of course that you are of a mind to beg. Beyond this I have no ideas for a story and I already have one to finish. My sincere thanks again for all your kindness in reviewing chapter one. I hope you'll like this one too. As ever, please read and review.**

Meredith continued to hold on to my hand all the way home. She never opened her eyes throughout the journey or even said a word, not even when we had to wait for stop lights to change, but still she held my hand. I know in the past I would have pushed her, questioned her, demanded some sort of reaction, rather than the wall of nothing she used to build around herself, but now I wait. Meredith had sobbed in my arms when she came out of the prison after the execution. She'd told me why she'd felt the need to go at all. Then, after I'd taken her to see her best friend she'd taken my hand in hers and held it in her own, her delicate fingers entwining with mine in a grip that wasn't tight enough to hurt, but was strong enough to tell me that she needed the comfort. It was enough. I didn't need words, not yet.

When I pulled up outside the house it looked like there was no one else home. I was glad. Meredith looked too exhausted to cope with Stevens asking questions, and she didn't need to handle whatever is going on with Karev and Stevens at the moment. The way Meredith is still not opening her eyes as we sit outside the house in the car tells me that she just needs some peace and I'm going to make sure she gets it. Seeing Meredith in such a state outside the prison has woken every protective instinct I feel for her, not because I'm scared for her any more, not like the way I felt after she drowned when I was scared to take my eyes off her in case she disappeared again, but because I love her and because she is letting me love her. With every passing day Meredith is letting me further and further in. It gives me hope to believe that if I can just get my timing right the ring that is nestling in a box in my pocket will soon be put to use.

"Meredith we're home," I say softly after a while. I don't expect any reaction at all, Meredith has been silent and still, other than the grip she has on my hand, since we left Cristina's, but as I turn to her I see her eyelids flicker and then her eyes open and she is looking right at me. I see the exhaustion in her gaze, the heaviness of her eyelids, as if she is keeping them open through force of will. I reach out and stroke her cheek gently and she leans in to the touch, a spark of light glistening in her eyes, but it doesn't lift the tiredness that seems to be pouring from her. The emotional trauma she's been through at the execution has exhausted Meredith; she doesn't have the strength to stir herself so I know what to do. At any other time she would kill me for it, but right now I don't care. All I care about is right here in front of me, all that matters is getting her inside and comfortable as soon as possible, so, taking one hand off her cheek and easing my other hand from within hers, telling her that I'll just be a second, I get out of the car and go round to her side. Opening the door I lean over and release her seatbelt. As I do I vaguely notice that at any other time Meredith would be asking me if I'm trying to cop a feel, a delicious smirk on her face while she's asking, but now she sits and waits for whatever happens next. When I reach out and pick her up into my arms her own go around my neck, her body leaning in to mine. I force myself not to react to the scent of lavender that assails me, the nearness of her body to mine. She is literally surrounding me and I love it.

I carry Meredith inside the house, glad that she has a tendency to leave her front door unlocked. She isn't heavy, but fighting with a lock whilst trying not to disturb Meredith too much wouldn't have been easy. The thought occurs to me that Mark would probably be agile enough to manage it with one of his conquests; the man could probably handle a door lock while he is in the throes, but I push the thought away. Besides, from what I hear it will be a while before he is in the throes with anyone. I make a mental note to tell Meredith that particular piece of gossip when she has had some rest, but then something from the past occurs to me, a thought that doesn't even matter anymore. It is enough to tell me that Meredith doesn't need to know this particular piece of gossip, and enough to remind me to ask Mark who he has been sleeping with, though I have a feeling I already know and Meredith won't like it, not one bit. I make another mental note to _not_ ask Mark who he has been sleeping with. At least then if Meredith finds out I can honestly plead innocence, and I might even watch while she tortures Mark.

We go inside the house just as a soft rain begins to fall. I shove the front door closed with my foot and we are cocooned in the low light of the hallway. The ring goes through my mind again and I send up a silent wish that one day I'll get a chance to carry Meredith like this again, though next time I hope she's more awake. I carried Meredith in my arms after I pulled her from the Elliot Bay, when she was blue and cold, I push the word dead away quickly, refusing to even think it. I'm carrying her now while she's exhausted. One day I want to carry her up the stairs, just like I'm doing now, but preferably with her wearing a dress I'm in a hurry to get her out of, and her eyes lowered with lust, not because she looks like she could sleep for a month.

Going in to our room I put Meredith down on the bed, the mattress springing gently against her non-existent weight. Then I begin helping her change for bed. I realise that if Meredith was herself she would be telling me I'm treating her like a child, but she lets me help her. It is another sign of how exhausted she is, how much the trauma of what she has seen has affected her. Maybe it is also a sign that she is beginning to trust me.

Once Meredith is in bed I quickly change my own clothes and get in beside her. As if on instinct she spoons with me and I'm sure I hear a sigh. I lean across Meredith and turn out the light. In the darkness I don't say anything, instead I settle for pulling her closer in my arms. She reaches out and grips my hand just like she did in the car, then she tucks our joined hands under her cheek. I don't think she will be awake for long. I listen for the sound of her breathing evening out, telling me that she is finding the rest she needs. I won't push her to talk, there is time for talking in the morning. I know somehow that when Meredith has slept she will talk to me. That's what we do since we got back together, after Rose and the rest of the mess, we talk.

After about half an hour I lie listening to sounds of the house at night. A clock ticking somewhere, the distant hum of the refrigerator, the faint sounds of traffic from the city. Meredith's breathing is steady and I tell myself again that she will soon be asleep. The thought makes me close my eyes. I slowly start to slip away, my awareness of everything sliding, all except for Meredith in my arms. I know I will always be aware of Meredith, even in the deepest sleep. I jump slightly at a sudden noise.

"Derek?" Her voice reaches me in the darkness. It almost startles me for a second. Any sign of sleep disappears. I'm wide awake.

"Mmm", I respond in the way I know she likes. She snuggles closer to me. She sighs.

"Thank you for taking me to see Cristina."

The simplicity of the words takes my breath away. She says them almost reverently, as if that simple act of taking her to see her best friend means something. Maybe it does.

"It's okay", I tell her. "Did you fix things?" Watching Meredith cry outside the prison and in the car made me realise how much she needs Cristina's friendship. They need each other, I can see that now. So often in the past I felt pushed out by their closeness, as if Meredith needed Cristina more than me. Now I realise that Cristina has been the one constant in her life, even when I wasn't around Cristina always was. It's understandable that Meredith relies on her so much. The difference now is that Meredith is beginning to rely on me too. It's a good feeling, but it doesn't take away from how much she needs her friend. I surprise myself by being happy with that. I don't care if Meredith needs Cristina as long as she needs me too.

"I think….I think we did. But you know, Cristina…" She leaves the thought hanging. I know what she means. Cristina might be talking to Meredith now but she'll make her work for it. I have a horrible feeling it is a trait Cristina and I have in common.

"You'll work it out", I reassure her, hoping I'm right. Meredith doesn't reply so I hope I've helped her feel better. Then she speaks again.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to stop crying for you."

I don't know where that came from. It leaves me floundering for a moment. A confused "What?" passes my lips before I realise how stupid it sounds.

"At the prison", she goes on, ignoring my baffled question. 'It wasn't that I didn't want to stop crying for you, I just…."

"I know, you don't need to explain, I'm just…" I try to tell her how I was glad that she felt able to tell me how the execution had made her feel, how horrible it was. I want her to know how happy I was just being allowed to hold her while she cried.

Meredith interrupts me, carrying on with her own line of thought. "It was just that we fight every day for people, to keep them alive, and I had to sit there and watch while a machine pushed a whole bunch of drugs into a man and killed him."

I have to force away an urge to remind Meredith why William Dunn was being killed. The fact that he took five lives. Five people died at his hands and they probably died in a lot more pain and fear than he did. I want to tell her that, but I can't. Instead I listen as she goes on talking.

"It was the families too…The families of the people he killed. There were so many people there Derek, a roomful of people. They all looked so sad."

I lie there and listen. Suddenly this feels different. It's not just that Meredith feels compassion for William Dunn anymore, it's something else.

"The thing was, when it was over, when he was dead, none of them looked any better. There was no cheering and clapping like I thought there would be. They were all still so sad, as if they still couldn't get away from what he'd done. The thing is, William's dead, he doesn't have to think about what he's done ever again, but those families, for the rest of their lives they will remember what he did because someone they loved isn't there anymore, so what was the point?"

The question throws me. Part of me wants to say that the point was that William Dunn has been punished. Part of me wants to say that he forfeited his life when he took the lives of those five women, but I know Meredith isn't asking me why he had to be executed. What she is asking me is what the point was in his execution when the people most damaged by what he has done don't get any relief out of it. They still have to live with the loss of their loved ones while William Dunn is dead and at peace. I realise she has a point. I realise that they could find my Dad's killers tomorrow and it wouldn't bring him back or ease his loss for me or my Mom and sisters. He would still be dead and it would still hurt. "I don't know", I concede at last.

Meredith surprises me by turning in my arms so that she is facing me. "I really am sorry about your Dad you know."

She utters the words so gently it almost brings tears to my eyes. I sigh and focus on her eyes. "Thank you." The words come out huskily, through a twist of emotions. I don't talk about my Dad very often, don't always think about him like I did years ago when he first died, but hearing Meredith mention him brings it all back. Suddenly I can see him in the back of my mind, clearer than I have for a long time.

"What…What was he like?" Meredith stumbles over the question. I realise that she's probably scared of upsetting me. I smile, partly to reassure her that I'm all right, but also in genuine pleasure of a million memories that have been shut away for too long, memories of the life he had lived that had almost been consumed by the memory of how he died, as if dying was the thing that marked him out. Suddenly I remember him teaching me the rudiments of fishing, I remember helping him in the store. I remember things he told me, things he thought I would need to know to live a happy life. I remember being with him, how his mere presence made everything better, no matter how bad the situation was. I remember the person he was.

"He was great", I say after several moments had passed. "He was really great."

Meredith nods and smiles tenderly at me in the darkness of the room. She doesn't push for more now and I'm glad. I vow that soon I'll dig out some photographs I have tucked away somewhere. I know she'll never get to meet my Dad but I'd like to be able to show her something. I need her to know what he was like, not to show up how different he was to her own father, but to explain to her what he meant. I want her to know everything about me, I want to share everything with her, and Dad is part of that, even if he isn't here to know.

"Derek?" Meredith's voice cuts across my train of thought. Absently I run the hand that until she moved was under her cheek, through her hair. I inhale the lavender scent that the movement draws out. I look into her eyes and see everything she feels. For a reason I can't explain my heart begins to thump.

"I…I love you." She smiles almost shyly after she says the words.

As much as I knew Meredith was about to say something important, I could tell by her eyes, I never expected this. Meredith has told me once, only once before, and then I'd turned around and left her to pick up the pieces when I made the wrong choice of trying to fix a marriage that was over. She'd never said the words again, not when we got back together after the mess of me walking away from my marriage, her trying to move on with Finn and me being so jealous that I said things to her I would die rather than ever repeat. She'd never said it after she drowned, not even when she was trying to be happy and I was hovering over her, scared to death that if I took my eyes off her just for a second she would be gone. She never said it, not even when I began to pull away from her, as much as I hated myself for doing it. She never even said it when she stood on my land surrounded by a house of candles, telling me she wants things, a house, kids, and she wants us to be extraordinary.

I was convinced that I would never hear the words again, that just the fact that she was here with me was enough, would always be enough, so to hear her say it now, after the night she has had, well, she has amazed me. It feels incredible. I lie there and look at her, just absorbing the sight of her next to me, even after all the times I've failed her. Just like on that night when I found her on my land and she yelled at me and showed me a glimpse of the future she wants for us, I remind myself that I'm never going to fail her again. Hearing those words again seals the resolve. I will never fail her again. This is it. I find my mind straying to the ring in my jacket pocket. I wonder if this is the moment. I wonder if I should ask her now. She has just told me she loves me, there is no chance after that that she'd say no, is there? Then I think. If I ask her now she might think that I'm asking purely because she said it, that somehow I feel obliged to ask. She might feel that I'm using the fact that she's said it to rush her into a marriage she still isn't ready for. I decide to leave the ring in my pocket for now. The time isn't right. I will know when it is, and when it is Meredith will say yes, I know she will. She loves me. Instead of the big proposal my mind had briefly conjured up, I realise there is something else I need to say, something as important.

I take Meredith's face in my hand, cupping her cheek in my palm. I feel the softness of her skin, the heat radiating from her body. "I love you Meredith, I love you so much." I need her to know that I'm not just repeating it back to her. I'm saying it now. I love you Meredith Grey. Fact. When, a second later, I'm on my back and she is on top of me, stealing my breath with a kiss and a promise of much more, I know she gets it.

As clothes start to come off and kisses turn to sighs and whimpers, breathing becomes an effort and hearts are racing fit to explode, I know I was right to wait. Meredith and I might see the world differently in some ways, we may have been through a lifetime's worth of pain to get where we are now, but the fact remains that we love each other. The ring is there and one day I know Meredith will wear it. Whether that is tomorrow, next week, next month, or whatever, it doesn't matter. We love each other. For now the ring can wait.

**A/N There we are you see. You probably thought the fic was a way of expanding on last week's episode, and in a way it was, but the idea of Meredith and Derek actually saying those all important three little words again just wouldn't go away. It seems to me that saying those words is every bit as important as the ring, so I made them say it. I hope you've enjoyed reading it. I will know if you review.**


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